From This Moment
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: It began all innocently. A moment like any other in their long work relationship. And things would never be the same.


Title: From This Moment

Disclaimer: JAG and its characters belong to Bellisarius Productions. No monetary gain is made from this endeavor. Nor do I own the Shania Twain song from which I have shamelessly borrowed the title.

AN: This story was written for the He said, She said Ficathon, where authors chose from a selection of prompts from tv shows other than JAG, and put it in a JAG story. The prompt for this story was:

_From "Golden Girls", provided by HarmMacLove:_

_Rose: You know what I think?_

Blanche: No, do you?

AN: Set in early season 8. Because it was a fun time. Because it fits. And because I say so. LOL. Mac's POV.

With a heartfelt Thank you to two very special people out there whom I am lucky enough to call my friends. For all your help and support and encouragement, and not just regarding this story.

**o o o o o o **

It began all innocently. A moment like any other in their long work relationship. A shared take-out dinner at her home before the laptop was opened and perched on her lap. His pacing around the couch, her sitting cross-legged on it, while they thought, formulated, reasoned, bartered, discarded.

Occasionally she would look up, distracting herself from their case for a moment while she watched him. Hoping he wouldn't notice. While it hit her how much she loved this man. His passionate arguments, his quick wit. How he moved his hands around in the air when he was thinking aloud. The sound of his voice when he raised it to make a point and the soft lines around his penetrating eyes, crinkled in concentration… Focus, she needed to focus.

And then it happened. He had circled around the couch, came to stand behind it. Looked over her shoulder to where she pointed out a flaw in their strategy on her screen. And he froze.

When he stopped in the middle of his sentence and didn't continue, she turned her head to look up at him.

And found him staring down the v-neck of her sweater.

Well this was a new one! She waited for a heartbeat or three, but he remained utterly unaware that she had caught him out. He was supporting himself on the back of her couch, one strong arm on each side of her. His head bent down next to her, so close to her own that she could hear him breathing, and his eyes – in her cleavage.

Internally, she was jubilating. It was so rare that he showed any sign of finding her physically attractive, and now this! Her heart started beating rapidly. She spent so much time wondering about their relationship; hoping, craving for it to turn to something more than friendship, yet questioning whether it ever would. Unable to truly believe that he returned her feelings. Well it wasn't that sort of acknowledgment, but it was… something.

"Harm?"

He snapped his eyes back up, caught hers. Then blushed about four different shades of red.

"You were saying?" She asked, quirking up an eyebrow while she pointed toward the computer screen.

"Uhm, what?" He quickly looked away from her and toward the laptop. She didn't think she had ever seen him this flustered.

"As I was saying…" He cleared his throat, gesticulated with his hand, once, twice. "You know what I think?"

She smiled with barely concealed amusement while her heart kept galloping in her chest.

"No," she teased, "do you?"

"What?" He looked at her, then away just as quickly. Rose to his full height behind the couch, moved his face away from hers, his hands off the back of the sofa. She watched his every movement as he built up the distance between them. And not just by physically moving away. Her heart sank.

"I was thinking… You know, it's late… I best get going now…" He strode toward her front door, still unable to really look at her. "We got pretty far tonight and… uhm…" He threw on his coat and reached for the doorknob. "We can finish this up tomorrow…"

Half out the door, he hesitated for a moment.

"Mac?"

"Yes?"

He looked at her, and she held his gaze. She could feel that he wanted to say something more, but nothing came. His eyes slithered away again.

"Good Night, Mac."

And he was gone.

**o o o o o o**

It took her twelve discarded emails, and three days to work up the courage to hit send. The wording of number thirteen was just right, if she did say so herself. Short and concise, clear enough to get the meaning across.

She was asking him out for Friday night. On a date.

She was still afraid of taking that step, but she couldn't let it go any longer. Not after the other night. A couple of years ago she had resolved to never take the first step with Harm again; the rejection had hurt that much. Yet here she was. She wanted him. Still. And she was ready to let him know it.

Too bad he didn't seem to get it. Or he ignored it. Or he didn't want to go out with her but was too chicken to tell her. It's been days since she sent that email, and he showed no signs of even having read it.

By Friday she was a jittery mess of a woman and a poor excuse for a Marine. She was going certifiably insane. Anxious butterflies were dominating her belly, dipping precariously lower whenever she caught a glimpse of him.

She had the hardest time concentrating on her work because her thoughts kept wandering. She spent her days and most of her nights wondering whether or not he even received it, wondering whether he'd respond to her, when he'd respond to her, what he was thinking of her now. Had she wrongly interpreted his looking at her the other night? Or all their interactions over the past months, years even?

She was a lawyer, she recognized circumstantial evidence when she saw it. The dinners where he'd cooked for her and lit up candles. His smiles, the many times he winked at her and she felt like she was the only one who got treated to that special smile and the sparkle in his eyes. The teasing, the sexy banter. That night under the stars. Wasn't it all adding up to tell her that he was interested in her, as more than a friend? She didn't get it.

She had asked him out for _today,_ why hadn't he responded? Did he misunderstand what she had written? But there wasn't much that could be misunderstood… Did he not get the email? But why wouldn't he get it, he always received her emails… Did he not want to go out? Didn't he want her? Why oh why didn't he want her…? She scoffed and angrily stuffed a couple of files in her briefcase. She liked feeling angry much better than the overpowering feelings of hurt that were simmering underneath.

Not that they had had many chances for a personal conversation as it is. Seriously, their timing was just off this past week. It was bordering on ridiculous!

They barely saw each other at the office, either he was gone or she was gone, and when they were actually both around, she didn't stand a chance to have a somewhat private conversation with him even for a few minutes. Someone was sure to interrupt them.

She met him in the break room, and Bud came in, chatting with them until Harm left. She ran into him in a hallway, and Harriet came by asking questions. At the door to his office, and Tiner brought them messages from the Admiral. Other personnel having questions about this case or that. Every attempt she had made at getting a few minutes of one-on-one time with him was ill-fated. No wonder he didn't respond to her email; when should he have done so?

She was mad, absolutely steamed, at the entire universe. Hadn't they had enough bad timing in their relationship to last them a lifetime?

And the worst were the looks he gave her. When she caught him looking at her from afar. When he apparently thought she wouldn't notice. That was the part she didn't understand most of all.

Because there was such longing in his eyes. So much feeling. An intensity in his gaze he had directed at her only a few times before. Each time, it blew her away. It made her pulse go faster and her breathing more rushed. Her head spin and her mouth dry and her tummy flutter.

And every time she caught his gaze over the course of the past days, he had looked like that. Like he wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go again. Like he wanted to undress her with his eyes. Like he wanted to climb inside of her. No wonder she was so jittery; he was driving her crazy! Because she too wanted all of that, and more. So if they both wanted the same thing, then_ why_ _the hell_ didn't he respond to her?!

Looking around her office, she did one last check whether she had done and packed everything before the weekend. The bullpen was already darkened; there were probably only very few people left at this hour on a Friday night.

In fact, the only office light that was still on was Harm's. Mac let her eyes travel, and wouldn't you know it, he was looking at her again. His eyes darkened and glittery from the late evening illumination, his gaze intense and piercing. As soon as her eyes met his though, he dropped his gaze, his head, scurried around his office, supposedly engrossed with packing up his things.

This was it, she just couldn't take it anymore! Who did he think he was, treating her like that. She deserved an answer, and she was going to get it. Now!

**o o o o o o **

She was determined. She was angry. She was hurt. She was nervous. She was a Marine on a mission.

She knocked but marched right on into his office, slamming the door shut behind her.

Harm was standing behind his desk, packing his briefcase. "Mac!" He exclaimed, visibly shocked at her sudden entrance.

Ha, her mind scoffed, she was gonna give him 'shocked.'

She walked around his desk, and his eyes became wider with every inch she came nearer. When she was so close that she had to angle her head up to look at him, she grabbed the lapels of his uniform and pushed.

Together they stumbled, he backward, she forward, until their progress was stopped by the wall against his back. She kept her hold on his jacket, forced him to finally look at her instead of averting his gaze, as he had done these past days whenever she had caught him. Her eyes sparkled, with uncertainty, with indignation.

"Do you want me or not, Harm?" She visibly pressed out the words, laced with all the hurt and confusion she had built up over the past days, months, years. "Because I saw you looking down my shirt!"

Mac was shocked at herself, shocked at the words she had uttered. Her plan had admittedly only reached as far as confronting him; she hadn't planned ahead to the 'how' yet.

For a few, interminably long seconds, silence reigned over them. There was no movement, no sound from either one apart from their heavy breathing. His eyes glittered back at her, mirroring all the confusion she had felt.

Suddenly she was spun around, and before she realized what was happening, she found herself pressed with her back to the wall, her wrists held tightly in his strong grip next to her head. His body pressed against her, close, so close. Meeting hers at all the right places. The air rushed out of her all at once, leaving only hot, sparkling tingles behind.

"Maaaac." He drew out her name on a long raspy sigh, so close to her that she could feel his breath on her face. Heat rushed through her veins, settled heavily in her belly.

"I don't just _want_ you…" He finally continued, and she quivered against him. She blinked up at him, looked into his eyes, and the heat in them almost melted her to the bone. She feared she would just drop to the floor if he didn't keep holding her up by her arms, and his strong thighs against hers.

"I need you," he whispered against her ear, then trailed the tip of his nose along her cheek. She gulped.

"I ache for you." His nose reached hers, and he gave her a soft Eskimo kiss, before he dropped a tiny peck on the tip of her nose. She craved to touch him too, and her hands listlessly opened and closed in his hold.

"Then… ooohh…" she sighed. There was something more, something she needed to know, but it was so hard to concentrate when his lips were on her skin, dropping hot kisses along her jaw and down the column of her neck. "Then why… oh god…" He had practically lifted her up with his thighs, and she was straddling him. With the hard wall against her back and his hard body against her front. She could feel all of him, and she was practically shaking with barely suppressed need. She wrapped her legs around his hips and held on.

His lips trailed back up, along her neck, and toward the side of her mouth. Yes, he was going to kiss her, finally he was going to kiss her! She felt so giddy she was afraid she might burst.

But the little something was still nagging at her, and she knew she had to know first. She wiggled her wrists and he let go, catching her underneath her thighs instead, all the while keeping up his assault on her skin. From his shoulders she trailed her hands down his chest, enjoying the distraction of feeling his strong muscles underneath her fingertips before she slightly pushed him away.

"Then why didn't you answer my email?" She asked, dangerously out of breath. "It hurt, Harm," she admitted. "I was asking you for a date. I thought you didn't want me."

"Oh Mac," he rested his forehead against hers, dropped his eyes, "I'm sorry. But I was… embarrassed…" He exhaled on a long, almost painful breath. "Felt… guilty, I guess…" And then he blushed again. To say she was confused was an understatement.

She took his face in her hands, softly trailed her thumbs along his cheeks while she made him look at her. "Why would you feel guilty?"

"I was looking, Mac!" He exclaimed, sounding pained. "I had no right, but I did! I treated you like a… sex object!" His final words were laced with indignation at himself. Thoughts were practically bursting out of him now, and she figured he had been holding them in and mulling them over for days on end. "I promised myself I'd never do that to you, you are worth so much more than that…" And then he seemed to practically deflate, and hung his head.

Mac had never felt what she was feeling now. Such a rush, so full of love and happiness, that it almost made her woozy. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his skin. She was thanking the heavens and all the stars above for bringing her Harm, wondered what she had done to deserve such a good man.

"God, I love you," she sighed through the big giddy smile on her face.

He froze against her, croaked a barely audible "What?"

Mac lifted her head, began trailing soft kisses along the column of his neck, up toward his jaw, closer and closer to his mouth, just as he had done to her earlier. She could hear his breathing speed up, feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest. She kissed the corner of his mouth, once, twice. Looked into his eyes, the giddy smile replaced by a serious expression.

"I love you, Harm," she repeated. Then used his momentary speechlessness to place her lips firmly on his.

It was like an explosion, his response immediate. He captured her, tasted her, filled her, explored her. Completed her. His lips were soft, yet strong. His taste manly and overpowering. She sank into his kiss, gave with equal fervor, enjoyed the carnality, the passion of the moment. This, this was what she had been waiting for her whole life.

He ended the kiss on a couple of soft pecks before he pulled away completely. Rubbed the tip of his nose against hers until he made her smile through her breathlessness. She looked into his eyes, and she was found.

"I love you too, Mac."

Then he smiled at her, the most wonderful Harm smile she had ever seen, and it was only for her. She supposed hers matched his in brightness, but she couldn't care less because all her thoughts were occupied by this overwhelming, beautiful, unbelievable, extraordinary development. He loved her.

So she kissed him again, poured all the love she felt, all the pent up emotions out through her lips and onto his. It was warm and tender and overwhelmingly sweet, and it made her ache for him like she'd never ached for any man before.

She trailed a few more kisses along his lower lip, took a few more nips, then pulled away.

"Come on, Harm, let's go home," she smiled at him. "Before we get court-martialed," she added, looking down to refer to their position, entwined and against the wall. He smiled back, a twinkle in his eyes, while he slowly let her slide down the wall. She missed the heat of his body immediately.

He reached for her hand, entwined his fingers with hers, and grabbed both their briefcases with the other.

"Sooooo…" He grinned at her happily while pulling her out of his office, exaggeratingly wiggling his eyebrows. "Your place or mine?"

She giggled. Life with him sure was never going to be boring. And she would love every second of it.

_The End. _


End file.
